


First Meetings

by Romiress



Category: Vinland Saga (Manga)
Genre: Canon Compliant, First Meetings, Gen, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-15 00:58:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8036080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romiress/pseuds/Romiress
Summary: A badly titled first meeting fic for Askeladd and Bjorn, made for @Karaii.





	First Meetings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Karaii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karaii/gifts).



He doesn’t remember who he is. He simply stares up at the sky, pieces slowly coming back to him. He aches. He’s tired. He knows he’s lying on his back, but anything beyond that is lost.

“Hey,” comes an unfamiliar voice, and he feels the tip of a sword prod at his chest.

He’s together enough to recognize that being poked with a sword hurts more than not being poked with a sword, so he reaches up to try and stop the sword from giving him yet another scar.

Something grabs his wrist and slams it to the ground, and he feels a fainted spike of irritation with himself.

He should be better than that. He should be able to fight it off. But he feels so, so _weak_. Like every bit of strength has been sucked from him, and nothing is left but a husk.

“Did you die? If you did, that’s awfully disappointing,” comes the voice again, and he squirms, recognizing that there’s a weight on his chest.

He shifts his head slightly, squinting up at the person sitting on his chest. He’s familiar, but not terribly--close cropped blond hair and a tuft of hair on his chin that looks like a better groomed version of his own. His vision is still swimming, but even so he can still see that the man is smirking down at him.

“Oh, good! You are awake. I was starting to worry they’d killed you. You _are_  bleeding all over, after all.”

The man is disgustingly plucky considering how awful he feels, and he wants nothing more than to roll over and bury his head in the dirt.

Rolling over is extremely hard with someone sitting on his chest, so he settles for letting out a frustrated grunt.

“So, Bjorn - your name is Bjorn, right? - what do I have to do in order to get you on my side?” the man asks, and Bjorn’s brain slowly puts the pieces together. He’s Bjorn. There was a battle. He remembers eating a mushroom, but he doesn’t remember anything after that. He isn’t entirely clear if the battle is even over, but things seem too quiet for it to still to be in full swing.

“We... lost?” He asks, his voice cracking from the effort of it. He’s tired enough without the extra exertion that comes from pressure on his lungs.

The man on his chest lets out a boisterous laugh at his question.

“Well, I wouldn’t say that _you_ lost, but your side certainly did. Slaughtered them to the man and you _still_ managed to kill fifteen of my men! By yourself! While bleeding! The battle was over and you were still swinging around like a giant top, hacking your way through my line!”

Bjorn doesn’t remember doing that, but he can’t deny it does sound like something he’d do.

“So, back to the point. What do I need to do in order to get you on _my_  side?” The man asks, leaning forward for a better view of Bjorn’s face. “Money? I do have a lot of gold to offer you, and I can only imagine how much more I could earn with you on my side...”

The man trails off, and it feels like he’s miles ahead while Bjorn is still struggling to stand upright in the entire stupid conversation.

“Nah, lemme guess. You’re not the kind to be swayed by women or money, huh? No, men like you are swayed by something more... visceral. Am I right?”

Bjorn can’t deny that either, but he does his best to anyway.

“I have my pride,” he mutters under his breath, but he can’t even quite convince himself.

“Well, if it’s _pride_  you want, I can give you that in spades,” the man insists, and then abruptly the weight is off his chest as the man stands up. “Plenty of room for someone who knows how to fight and wants to prove themselves!”

Bjorn isn’t sure when his hand came free, but it is, and he reaches up, using it to shield his eyes from the sun.

The man lets out another laugh as he does, and Bjorn lets out a frustrated grunt. Abruptly, there’s a hand just in front of his face, and he realizes that the man has bent down to offer him a hand up.

He wants to say that he doesn’t need it, but he feels like he was hit by a tree, so he simply lets out another grunt as he reaches up to take it.

It’s only the first of many.


End file.
